Knockout
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: At the end of the day, the only person Steve wants throwing him around is Danny. Coda to 2.06 "Ka Hakaka Maika'i"


"You gonna keep rubbing your jaw or actually go to the doctor and have him look at it?"

Steve gives Danny a Look, and opens his mouth slightly, testing to see whether or not it's going to pop back in place correctly. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, sure – but you're the one who decided to do it to yourself, so I'm not offering sympathy. Just if you want to perform basic tasks like chewing, talking – go have it looked at. I'll drive, I promise."

They're the only two in the office right now, taking ten before getting back to the grindstone. Steve is stretched out on his couch and Danny's actually sitting on the floor next to it, cleaning his pistol and facing Steve. From this angle, Steve has a good view of his partner, his shirt unbuttoned down to his chest. His shoulders pull at the material and thank God he's ditched the tie for the day, because it would be far too tempting to haul Danny up into his lap.

He looks back to the screen of his phone and sinks a little more comfortably into the couch. "You're just mad because I haven't blown you in a week."

"It… I'm not counting, babe."

Steve doesn't have to look at him to know he's embarrassed. "Admit it." Steve smiles to himself, and hears Danny's fingers pause on the barrel of his gun. It'd be easy right now, to simply let Danny take those oil slick fingers and jerk him off, right here, no fuss, no regrets. No, Steve can't comfortably blow him but that isn't going to stop him wanting.

"Steve, look. I'm genuinely concerned for your medical well being, yes, and I am willing to wait for you to recover from your little round in the ring – which I still say was the _stupidest_ idea you've had so far – but I don't want to… you know, ride shotgun to a mute because he can't open and close his mouth properly."

 _Or give up the best fucking head I've ever gotten in my life –_ or so Steve seems to recall him saying a while back. Yeah, Steve had latched onto that little confession like a tick on a hound. He knows he's worth more than that to Danny but God, the pleasing side of Steve's personality had taken a lot of pride in that fact.

"I think you're just jealous that someone else aside from _you_ got to throw me around." To be fair, Steve did his share of throwing back but… Danny's the only one to do it most of the time. Which there hasn't been much of, either, because yes, his body still hurts. Jumping off the side of that cage and into a wall of solid muscle isn't nearly as easy now as it was ten years ago.

Well, it wasn't necessarily easy then. He just recovered faster.

"Me? Jealous? No, see, that's…"

Steve's looking right at him now, waiting for Danny to continue. "That's what I thought."

Danny huffs, picks up the pieces of his gun, and starts reassembling. "I have nothing to be jealous of." It's said in this off-handed, quiet sort of way but Steve knows good and well that it's a lie. "Seriously."

Oh he doesn't?

"That so?" Steve sits up and swings his feet to the floor, ignoring the bruise twinging on his ribcage. "That's a little hurtful, Danno."

"Look, Steve, I didn't mean… I just…"

"Care? I know." Steve gets down on the floor with him, takes the gun from Danny's hands, and lays it aside. "But if it worries you that much, we'll go and get checked up. See if I'm ready to be thrown around for real this time."

"Well, I'm not diving at you from the wall, if that's what you're asking." Danny isn't moving a muscle, not with Steve right in his face like this. He can feel Danny's breath on his face, the way he's doing his best to control himself and not just grab Steve and push him to the floor. Yeah, it's been hell on both of them but hey, that's the nature of the job. It's either make an injury worse during athletic sex with your partner or wait it out and go crazy with hormones.

Steve licks his lips and takes a long, slow look at Danny from his chest up to his mouth. "You could just pin me against it and we'll call it a fair trade." Images of Danny doing exactly that flit through his mind's eye, his palms flat against it, better yet replaced by the cold metal of that locker room, his shorts around his knees and his ass hanging out of his jock while Danny works him open with those ridiculously talented fingers.

Christ, Steve _needs_ to get fucked soon. Needs to taste Danny, be taken by Danny, be _broken_ by Danny. Well, not broken, but re-created. No, nothing is wrong, really, he just…

He needs Danny. It's an immutable fact, just like Hawaii is paradise, or that _haoles_ never really will get the deeper concepts of island culture.

Footsteps across the floor of the main office space break the spell and Steve pulls back – but that deep, beautiful light of desire doesn't leave Danny's eyes. Chin enters the office and stops before he even gets two feet. "Am I interrupting something?"

Steve looks up at him, scrambling to come up with an answer right as Danny chimes in.

"He thinks his eye might be fucking up, so uh, I was looking at it." Danny doesn't sell it well, at all, and Steve can't exactly back him up. The one time he can't fucking act, and it has to be _now?_

Still, a half-assed save is a save.

"Sure." Chin, thank God, doesn't sound sold, especially since Steve is ninety nine percent positive he knows. Or if he does, when he's going to choose to reveal that information. All Steve can do is hope that Chin plays it cool for as long as possible. "So uh… you two gonna get up or what? I've got news you might want to hear…"

Aching jaw or not, Steve isn't going to let it stop him from getting what he wants, and _soon._

"You want me to go with you, or can you handle an x-ray on your own?" Danny's ribbing him, yes, but Steve knows well enough now that he's also seriously asking. "Unless you don't want me to find out that you're, I don't know, part alien or something. If you are it'd explain _a lot._ "

They're in the waiting room outside Dr. Kalakua's office, both of them still flushed from following up on the news Chin had brought earlier. One of their drug mule rings had gone hot again and not only had they gotten the carriers, but the distributors as well. So, about as good a day as can be had – and it had left time for Steve to actually do something about the looks of masked worry Danny keeps shooting him.

"Yeah, and I've been sent to start clearing the way for my overlords in their eternal quest for galactic domination." Steve gives him eyebrows, and Danny pinches his thigh.

"Hey, you asked!" Steve rubs his leg, playing up that it hurt a lot more than it actually did. "That's it, hurt the guy who's already hurt."

Danny leans back in his seat and shrugs. "Your fault, my friend."

"Commander McGarrett?" Dr. Kalakua stops in the waiting room, and Steve claps Danny on the shoulder as he stands up.

"If you hear screaming, it's because I couldn't hold on to my human disguise and ate the doctor." _It's gonna be fine, Danno._

"That's not funny. Hey Doc, you think that's funny?"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've been threatened with it – is he staying here, or…"

 _I'll be here when you come out, babe._

"Yeah, he is. This won't take long, will it?"

Dr. Kalakua holds his hand up in invitation. "It shouldn't – although it says on your chart you just got off duty. Is this related to today, or something else?"

They enter the doctor's office, and Steve moves automatically as his height and weight are measured. "No, actually. A few days ago, I was in a charity fight. MMA. I haven't told my partner, but it uh, kinda hurts more than it should."

"I see." Dr. Kalakua writes as the nurse takes Steve's blood pressure. "Most of the time, people come in right after, how do I put this gently, getting the crap beaten out of them."

"Yeah, I know. But he worries, and I figured I'd see how I shaped up after on my own." Steve's led into the x-ray room, and lies down on the table. "Do I need to take my shirt off?"

"If you would – you haven't felt dizzy, unusual headaches, anything like that?" Dr. Kalakua listens to his heartbeat for a moment, and Steve feels his eyes on the bruising marring his ribs. "Trouble breathing?"

"Not really anything I haven't experienced before. I was a SEAL for years, you get used to it." Dr. Kalakua presses on his chest and Steve lies down, the cool temperature of the dark little room making him shiver. "I've been shot a few times, so a glorified boxing match doesn't exactly rank too highly on my list of worries."

"And yet you took it on willingly. Any reason why?"

"I broke the guy who was supposed to fight's shoulder – least I could do." _And to show off for Danny._ "Guess I wanted some of the rush, too."

The x-ray tech comes in and the doctor stands back as she turns the machine on and pulls it to Steve's body. "Your job doesn't provide enough?" The machine hums to life and soon Steve's holding still as pictures of his ribcage, shoulders, and skull are taken.

"Most of the time, yeah, it does. That's not the kind of adrenaline I voluntarily look for, it's just work."

The doctor hums his assent, annoyingly inscrutable. "I can't give you final results just yet but my recommendation? There's a reason that most MMA fighters are retired by your age."

The machine is turned off, and Steve is free to return to the waiting room. He's still tugging his shirt on when he sits down, and Danny tries hard to not look worried as he stands up.

"All good?"

"Don't know yet – he did say I should stay out of the cage, but I wasn't planning on going back in." Steve reaches out and straightens the collar on Danny's shirt, looking him in the eye. "Thought he was gonna tell me to stay away from police work altogether."

"Kinda hard to just give up a career, right?" Danny looks like he could eat Steve up right now and as soon as Steve has the all clear for it, he's going to let him do it. Right here in the waiting room, supply closet, whatever's convenient. Well, maybe not _here,_ but somewhere.

"Nah, I'm thinking about retiring soon anyway. Take some cushy desk job where I don't get shot at."

Danny looks like he's actually going to smack him. "You're a _terrible_ liar – see, this is why I'm the detective, and you…"

"I know, should follow the detective, listen to what you say, and-"

Danny kisses him, sudden, fast, _warm._ It takes Steve by surprise, his head being pulled down to Danny's level. At this hour, there's no one else in the waiting room and Steve doesn't feel in the least bit shy about opening his mouth for Danny's tongue, hot and wet and perfect. He doesn't resist when Danny puts a hand on his chest and rubs, catching his nipple with his palm making a slow, hard circle.

Steve has to grab his wrist and pull him away before they commit some further indecency. "Point taken, Danno."

"Wasn't making one – that was because I wanted to." Danny's voice is low, soft, honey sweet, like they're lying in Steve's bed and the breeze coming off the ocean is cooling their lust-slaked bodies. "Trouble is, it's not quite enough."

"I know, Danny, I do, but… you're the one who wanted me checked out."

Steve flashes him a shit eating little smile and watches while Danny nods his head, chews his lip, wheels turning for something to shoot back with.

"You know, I'll let you have that one _only_ because I want to get my hands all over you."

Danny takes a quick look around and for the moment, they're still alone. He looks Steve dead in the eye and before he knows it, Danny is cupping his ass and _squeezing._

"Specifically here. Or just the general vicinity, whatever – but don't think that I won't be getting some of this before we're out tonight."

"That mean you're coming home with me?" Hell, Steve would tie him to the bed if he had to. Then again, Steve wants to be the one tied up…

"Exactly."

Danny's about to kiss him again when the door swings open and Dr. Kalakua clears his throat. "Commander McGarrett?"

Steve lets go of Danny and follows the doctor back into the examination room, where Steve's x-rays are hanging. "The good news is that no bones are broken. There are signs of accelerated stress, of course, but considering your chosen career, I don't suppose that it's all the surprising really. My suggestion would be to not get punched in the face or jump out of a moving car, but…"

"I don't actively _try_ to do either of those things, they just, uh, happen." Steve shrugs, like "what are you gonna do."

"I wouldn't think most people do – is there anything else I can help with?" Kalakua seems like a trustworthy enough guy, so Steve isn't _too_ ashamed to ask the next question:

"I can resume normal sexual activity, right? I mean… my partner, uh, Danny, and I, we… we haven't been because of my jaw hurting and-"

Kalakua pats Steve on the shoulder, trying not to smile. "You are your own best judge of that, but there's no reason to be afraid. Just not in my waiting room."

So much for them being sneaky.

Steve is out the door practically before Kalakua even finishes speaking, making a beeline for Danny. Danny's sat back down but stands the minute he sees him, the same _fuck yes_ smile spreading across his face as Steve's.

"Good news?"

Steve grabs Danny by the arm and points him towards the door, trying not to hurry him but also trying to, you know, hurry him. "Very. Hungry?" Hey, it's polite to ask.

"Nope."

Outside, Danny kisses Steve against the car and this time it's rough, demanding, and Steve gets shoved good and hard against the passenger door of the Camaro. Steve's thighs get spread by Danny's knee and he puts himself in that space, close enough that not a bit of moonlight gets between them.

Steve kisses him back twice as hard and ruts against Danny's thigh, _reveling_ in how Danny's hands roam everywhere, deciding what he wants and then asking for it all.

He would give it to Danny a thousand times over.

Danny pulls back and gives Steve this soft, _intimate_ look, hands cupping his face. "Glad you're okay." He kisses Steve again, a little less forcefully this time. It very nearly brings Steve to his knees, Danny's tongue exploring just inside his mouth, the tips of their tongues brushing. Every little touch sends sparks flying and right at the moment, Steve is very dry tinder.

"Want you," Steve huffs, willing to drop and suck off Danny right there and then. He can feel Danny's erection against his leg, hot and hard, a promise that both of them are going to get what they want. At this point, Steve _has_ to have him, even if it is just a taste. (Well, more a jaw-stretching mouthful, but Steve would rather experience than say it.)

Danny pulls back, unable to resist groping Steve's cock through his pants. "I'll drive."

"Keys are in my pocket."

Reaching for them devolves into another moment of spine-melting kisses, and the windows in the Camaro _are_ tinted…

Of course, messing around in their government issued vehicle is a bad idea and two, no matter how talented they both are, Steve can't comfortably bend himself to give Danny road head, even though he wants to try.

And three? His body is still bruised, but he's willing to ignore it in favor of getting as much of Danny as he can when he gets home.

Danny finally manages to extract himself from Steve (unwillingly) and get in the car, adjusting his boner in those beautiful, tight trousers, his ass peach-perfect even in the lowish light.

"You're getting rimmed," Steve says, and licking his lips just serves to drive his point home sooner. "So be ready for it."

"You say that every fucking time, and am I ready? No. Because you _always_ manage to find some way when you do that to make me forget, well, everything."

"Wait, is that a no?"

Danny gives him a _look,_ and Steve instantly grins back at him. "Can't help it, Danno, you've got a nice ass."

"I do, and thank you for noticing. Just… don't bite as much this time." Danny starts the car and off they go, driving just as fast as they safely can.

In fairness, he could have said _don't bite at all –_ but when an ass is that nice, it's an obligation to taste as much as possible. That and Steve likes to watch Danny wince when he sits down since his butt has Steve's teeth marks in it. They can't give each other hickies, so Steve is going to claim him however he can.

Steve macks on him at every stop sign and stop light, deep, wet, brief kisses that leave both of them moaning and it's so, so hard to keep his hands to himself, because Danny looks fucking hot and Steve _wants,_ wants him more than anyone else he's ever known or been with. It's the sort of desire that makes his skin feel too hot, and there's no other way to fix it except to be with Danny.

There's no specific moment Steve can pick that he fell for him, but he's almost positive it was when he found him in his garage, not backing down for anything. It's just one of those things that feels like it's always been there and Steve can't think of a single damn thing that could possibly replace him.

They roll into Steve's driveway, and Danny's out of the car before Steve can reach for him. "Hey, come back!"

"We're literally going to the same place!" Danny's booking it, just as eager to be inside with Steve under him as Steve is. He's got his keys out, fishing for the spare Steve made for him. "What, you think I'm running off somewhere else?"

Once inside, Steve crowds up behind Danny and drops kisses down the side of his neck. "No."

Danny groans and tilts his head, letting Steve have more access. "Good – upstairs, babe." Danny ducks out of Steve's arms and is racing up the stairs, looking back at Steve like he's going to race.

Like hell if Steve is going to pass up the view he's got right now of Danny's ass, asking himself if it would be worth it to just catch him halfway up and rim him right there.

Danny doesn't let him, but it's an enticing thought anyway.

Steve's bedroom is near pitch black once they stumble in, kissing, pulling at clothes, groping each newly exposed part of each other's flesh. Steve can feel the sweat of passion running down his back, damp, familiar, _right,_ groaning when Danny bites at his chest and pulls Steve down on top of him, both of them now shirtless so that finally, _finally_ Steve can feel Danny's naked body against his, fitting so damn well together in spite of their size difference.

"Think it's time for more," Steve murmurs, and Danny automatically spreads his legs. Steve gets his right hand between them and squeezes Danny's cock, his pants still on. "D'you have any idea how much I've been wanting this Danno?" He finds Danny's balls and rubs them, mouthing at Danny's jaw.

"Making it really fuckin' hard to guess wrong." Danny's starting to thrust against his hand, his cock thick even through his pants. "Stop teasing, babe, I'm not in any shape for it tonight."

"Oh, someone's on edge." Steve bites Danny's bottom lip just to goad him more, knowing full well that it's just going to rile him up more – which is exactly what he wants. Danny digs his fingers into his shoulders and ruts against Steve even harder, his patience fading but goddammit, Steve is _enjoying_ this.

"And I won't be for much longer if you don't-"

"Deep throat you and swallow your come?" Steve finishes for him, and kisses the moan from Danny's lips. "I know, Danno, I've got you."

He's quite proud of himself for not breaking contact with Danny as he unhooks his belt and gets his pants down his thighs, nearly completely satisfied when he feels Danny's thick cock against his arm, smearing precome wherever it touches Steve.

Danny reaches for the light but Steve stops him. "Want you to concentrate on how it feels."

"Kinky," Danny says, but lets him go. All the way down Steve kisses, nosing at his chest hair and swirling his tongue around each nipple, counting his ribs with his lips tracing lazy figures down the beautiful, soft impressions of his hipbones. This absolutely counts as getting a taste, even if Danny would beg to differ. Hell, he can't rush this, can't not inhale the musky scent of Danny's body, or not run his fingers through his body hair.

He feels Danny's fingers in his hair, gentle but insistent. "It's all still there, babe." He knows what Steve's doing, this beautiful, slow worship of his body. "Promise I'd tell you if it wasn't."

Steve hums, his mouth right at the join of Danny's left leg and his body, licking over it slowly as he noses at Danny's pubes. The scent is intoxicating, the faint traces of soap, his sweat, the _heat_ – Danny's beautifully warm of body, and Steve wants nothing more than to let it envelop him completely.

He can feel Danny about to implore him again when he noses at his balls, the fingers of his right hand curled around the thick, heavy weight of his cock. Steve licks at the base, using the tip of his tongue to trace up the vein, all the way to the tip and it's killing him, holding back, just as much as it is Danny but dammit, he wants to _remember_ this time.

His resolution collapses when he tastes a fat glob of precome leak from Danny's slit, just from Steve keeping his tongue on his sweet spot.

"Steve-"

Steve reaches for Danny's left hand, laces their fingers together, and swallows Danny in one go. His jaw practically screams at him but it doesn't stop him, and neither does Danny's involuntary, sudden upward thrust. His cock bumps the back of Steve's throat and it's _almost_ enough to make Steve back off but fuck no, not today, not after almost a week without getting to have him like this.

"Sh… Steve, your fuckin' _mouth…"_

Bang.

Got him.

Steve's head starts to bob up and down, nice and easy, letting the slow pace and hot, wet heat of his mouth do the work. Danny responds a lot better to this slow kind of attention than blow-n-go, letting Steve pull these needy little gasps and moans out of him. Steve desperately needs to get his own pants off, touch himself in some way but the building friction is too fucking good – and he doesn't dare take a hand off of Danny just yet, not when he's got him right where he wants him.

Steve doesn't bother coming up for air until spit is running down his chin and off of Danny's balls, making a puddle on the sheet between them. The salty, heavy taste of Danny coats the inside of Steve's mouth so completely that it may as well be all there is and ever will be. Danny's moans have been pitching higher and higher, mixed with begging, gasping, a desperate attempt to get more than what Steve is giving him.

"Steve, Jesus, can… I surrender, alright? Whatever it is you're trying to prove, I give, just please, let me fucking _come._ " Danny isn't faking the wrecked tone in his voice and yes, Steve can feel his cock throbbing in his mouth. He isn't going to tell Danny but he did indeed taste a couple drops of come, completely involuntary but belying just how far gone he is.

Steve wipes his mouth and surges forward to kiss Danny stupid, sharing his body with him as he pulls Danny's pants the rest of the way off. Danny seizes the advantage and traps Steve with his legs, trying to roll them so that he can regain control and finish _himself_ off if Steve isn't going to do it.

"Oh no you don't." Holy shit, his voice is raspy and weak but it's exactly what he wants, along with the way his jaw is now numb and his lips are swollen. He lets go of Danny and slides back down his body, tilting him so that his ass end is in the air and Danny's cock is pointed right at his face. Danny goes along with it, still not completely able to see him but trusting Steve all the same.

"Said I was gonna eat you out, Danno." Steve braces Danny so that he doesn't fall back down and kisses up the inside of Danny's right thigh. "You really think I was kidding about it?"

"No, I… I didn't." He can hear and feel Danny anticipating it, that first lick of Steve's tongue across his hole. "C'mon Steve, eat me out."

He really can't resist any longer, can he?

Steve loves doing this to Danny, rimming him just for the sake of it feeling good. At first Danny had said no way, absolutely not, even though Danny had _plenty_ of first hand experience at the time of doing it to Steve, and the resulting orgasms he'd gotten just from having Steve's tongue up his ass. It had taken patience, Steve bugging the hell out of Danny about it, and glacially slow incorporation of ass play into blowing him but eventually, Danny had relented.

And now? He likes it even more than Steve does – so long as Steve does it right.

He can feel Danny jerking himself off, his cock slicked by the mess of precome and spit Steve had left behind, leaking even more as Steve uses the broad, flat part of his tongue to lick right over Danny's hole. Steve is deliberate, forceful even, drawing it out just enough that Danny gets the full overload of sensation every single time. He can't tease him, not when Danny is wound up so tightly that he very well may combust. Danny's balls aren't hanging loose anymore, drawn up tight to his body – he isn't going to last much longer.

"Babe, I-"

Danny is cut off by his own orgasm, and the smell of come blankets the air. Steve keeps licking him through it, tasting each contraction of Danny's hole as he empties himself, all over his own face and body. Steve wishes that he had turned on the light, just to see the mess that he's reduced Danny to.

He doesn't have to wait, because the second Danny finishes he's grabbing Steve's face and kissing him like mad, his face and mouth _covered_ in come, pushing it back into Steve's mouth and showing him what he's done, what he's missed the last few days.

Steve doesn't even have to touch himself, because Danny squeezes him through his pants once and it sets him off, shuddering against Danny, his arousal finally bursting like a supernova inside his chest and Danny doesn't say a word, just keeps jerking him until Steve's spent as well, the wetness in his underwear proof that it _has_ been hell on them both, to not have each other. Steve is starting to realize that sex with Danny is a necessity, as much as breathing or surfing.

Finally, Steve manages to turn the bedside lamp on and he was right, Danny is absolutely covered. Come dampens his chest hair, smears his chin and mouth shiny wet as well.

Danny looks down at him, propped up on his side as he rubs Steve's bulge through the last aftershocks, that soft look returned to his eyes. "I don't think I enjoyed that nearly as much as you did."

"Call me a pleaser, but it's true." Steve isn't exactly ashamed that he creamed his pants, and Danny isn't going to rib him for it. "First time I've come like that in a while." (Dry humping in his office doesn't count, does it?)

"I love that you get off on getting me off, really." Danny dips his head and kisses him, not quite chaste but not seeking to rekindle the temporarily doused flame between them either. "But I don't think we're quite done yet."

Steve opens his eyes and yeah, Danny's serious. Heat stirs in his belly, not yet impossible to ignore, but just the idea of round two makes his skin tingle. "You mean all of this…" He gestures to the mess all over Danny, earning a shrug from his partner.

"I haven't come since the last time with you – we've got some serious catching up to do." He rolls over on top of Steve, come-sticky body and all. "But first, we're going to shower. You are more than welcome to join me – in fact I'd prefer it – but it's happening, so let's get naked and wet."

Another kiss, this time serious in its intent. Steve groans, going from thirty to a hundred again when he feels Danny's come-sticky cock catch against the hair on his lower belly. No, this night _definitely_ isn't over, and like hell if Steve is going to pass the chance up.

Of course, Danny wouldn't let him anyway.

Letting Danny know that they're going to be having kinky sex without actually telling him is proving to be a challenge more difficult than Steve had imagined.

It's Friday – which means nothing to crime, but it does give them at least an illusion of the work week being over – and while everyone else has been typing up reports, checking inventory, making the right calls to follow up on any potential leads, Steve's been plotting. Well not plotting, since they belies something sinister, but planning. That night with Danny earlier in the week had been only the start, and every night since they've worked each other up, broken down, and then started rebuilding, over and over again. It's good, it's dirty, it's _hot –_ but Steve still hasn't gotten what he wanted after that fight.

He had wanted Danny, right there in that dank locker room, bent over the bench in the middle or up against the lockers – he isn't picky. Wanted to ride off the last of his adrenaline and get fucked in his jockstrap, then and there. It hadn't happened, and returning to the scene of a crime just to have dirty sex isn't exactly something Steve wants Five-0 to get a reputation for.

But to have Danny like that? The idea is intoxicating, and Danny is the only one who knows just how deeply some of Steve's kinks run. Chin has kind of sort of asked once, more out of curiosity than anything else, and Steve had let on that _maybe_ he's different with Danny, and that had been it. Chin respects that, as does the rest of his team.

He _is_ different with Danny, because Danny has never once made him feel ashamed of what he's into, or what he wants. Steve knows that the rest of the world sees him as a SEAL, a fighter, a leader – which he is, absolutely. No one but Danny gets the eager-to-please, submissive (in the best possible sense of the word) kinky-dirty-as-all-hell side of him. More than that, it's _only_ Danny who can give that to him, has that understanding of him. There had been a couple of guys from his Navy days that had gotten it halfway but Steve had never let them in completely, not in the way he's done with Danny.

These thoughts swirl around Steve's mind, sitting at his desk, his boots discretely kicked off under it, trying to get work done but looking at Danny out in the bull pen as he searches for a file. The setting sun is an absurdly nice backdrop for his partner, the oranges and reds peeking from around his body like some sort of Renaissance-painted deity. He must feel Steve's gaze on him, because he catches his eyes and smiles, taking that look as invitation to come into Steve's office.

"Being moony-eyed at me doesn't count as work, babe." Danny makes himself comfortable in one of the chairs in front of Steve's desk, clearly glad to take a break. "Unless there's been some change to state law in the last six hours that says yes, it is."

"I'm not _moony-eyed._ " Steve scoffs and pretends to ignore Danny, tapping away at a sentence he was working on. "You just happened to be standing in my line of sight."

"Yeah, whatever." Danny picks up a pen from Steve's desk and fiddles with it, looking away from him. "Uh, something's come up."

Steve stops typing, racking his brain to try and remember if they _had_ gotten a call today. "I didn't hear my phone ring."

"Oh, not Five-0 business – personal business. Family stuff."

Oh

 _Rachel._

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I know we had plans tonight, babe, and I know it's last minute but Grace's school has is having conference night – on a fucking _Friday –_ and I have to take her. Rachel's got some charity thing and won't be back til later, so…"

Steve's heart swells a couple sizes for this man, _apologizing_ for spending time with his daughter. "You really think I'd be mad about you spending time with Grace?"

"No, no, it's just that I _hate_ these things, conferences and stuff. Grace doesn't even need one, she's great, you know, I just… don't want to go. It's selfish." Danny shies away, and Steve wants to hug him. Like really, really tightly.

"It isn't – but would you feel this way if it was taking her out for a bite, or going to the beach?"

"No, those are things people actually want to do."

"Exactly. And I bet that whatever her teachers have to say, it'll be nothing but good. She's your kid, Danny, so I'm sure it's fine. Or it will be fine. Besides, I'm a patient man."

"Even if I don't get in til late?"

Steve nods. "Grace is a priority, Danno, one that goes above and beyond what I have to give. Go, be there for her, and I'll be right here when you're done."

"Literally right here?" Danny smirks, and Steve's idea surges back to the front of his mind.

"Well, not _here_ here – you know what, go do what you need to. I'll let you know where I am." With luck, it will be naked and sweaty in the Five-0 locker room, his hole already stretched so that all Danny has to do is come in and fuck the hell out of him.

His dick twitches, and Steve has to bite his tongue to keep from moaning. "You okay, babe?"

"Fine, just anticipating."

Danny stands up and walks out, casting curious looks back at Steve until he's gone. No, Steve isn't going to have an easy time waiting, but in the end?

Oh _man_ it's going to be fucking worth it.

It's nearly ten o'clock, and Steve's starting to think he's overdoing it on the whole getting sweaty thing. Not that it takes much, but if he's going to do it, he's going to do it _right._

He'd gone on a four mile run as a warm-up, stripped to the waist in the same red shorts he'd worn to the fight. He couldn't find the exact same jockstrap so he'd picked the next best one, solid black with thin straps that frame his ass nearly perfectly. It's going to make one hell of a picture, even if he is having to be patient.

It's been hours, not only since Danny left but Chin, Kono, and Lori as well, leaving Steve all alone at headquarters. He's down in the basement, the gym his and his alone at this hour. Loud rock music blasts from the speakers as he does chest flies, watching himself in the mirror, making his pecs pop and trying to keep track of every drop of sweat that trickles down his body. His shorts are clinging to him with dampness, the outline of his jock pouch plainly visible.

He considers taking a picture of himself just to send off and get Danny riled up, but if he's still with Grace, he won't risk it. He isn't going to be selfish and rush him, no he's going to keep working out, keep getting himself _ready._

Ten thirty comes and goes, and Steve's arms are starting to hurt. At least now he knows that his body can handle it, whatever punishment he puts himself through. Normally he doesn't even work out this long, but it's keeping the itch that only Danny can properly scratch at bay. Just the thoughts of Danny finding him like this has him half-hard, and it's hell to not just reach into his pants and touch – but he has to save it, make himself be patient. Danny will handle it _way_ better than jerking off ever could.

Right on cue, Steve feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.

From Danny: _Just dropped Grace off, you at home?_

Steve wipes the sweat from his fingers and replies, unable to control his smile. _Come to the palace._

 _You're still at work?_

 _Don't know if I would call it work._

He sends Danny a picture of his shirtless, sweaty body, the little peek of dark hair at the base of his belly completely unintentional.

 _I'll be there soon_

Steve pockets his phone, kills the sound system, and heads for the locker room. He's made doubly sure that it's clean and slips his shoes off, his toes sticking to the cold tile underneath. He had popped home earlier and gotten supplies, and they're still exactly where he put them in one of the lockers. Quickly he washes his hands and gets the lube and plug he'd brought from home, drops his shorts to his knees, and starts working himself open.

He had thought about using one of his dildos but that would encourage going to far, no, he just needs to stretch himself open and given that Rachel's isn't all that far from the palace, Steve doesn't have long to get ready. He'll let Danny rim him, suck him, make love later – right now, he just wants his cock, as deep inside him as he can get it.

The plug isn't exactly easy to take, but Steve sets to working it inside himself as fast as he can. He's generous with the lube, coating both the plug and his hole until it drips down the inside of his leg. He can feel his cock grow and stretch the pouch of his jock and he pulls it out and points it to the left as he kicks his shorts the rest of the way off, his heart racing at the image Danny is going to get when he walks in: his left leg cocked up on the bench, the other planted firmly on the floor, ass cheeks spread and slick with lube, not to mention the sweat making his back shine and the hair between his legs stuck fast to his skin.

Hell, Steve would probably fuck _himself_ if he was presented with all of that.

Steve makes himself slow down, the thicker, flared part of the plug finally opening him up enough to where he can probably take Danny when he arrives. He hasn't been hitting his prostate with it, not intentionally – but precome leaks from the end of his cock anyway, his body vibrating with anticipation at the thought of Danny's hands on his hips, pumping in to him with abandon.

Even if his little locker room fantasy doesn't work out exactly, he's still going to get fucked.

"Steve?" Danny's voice is distant, but he's definitely on this floor.

Well that was quick.

He doesn't reply, wanting Danny to find him. He pulls the plug out and makes sure his back is facing the door, stabilizing himself so that he can stroke his cock at the same time.

The door to the basement gym squeaks open and Danny calls again, loud enough that it echoes off the metal lockers around him. He can feel the gape he's got going on, more than enough to accommodate Danny's cock. He looks back over his shoulder, right as Danny steps in and whistles.

"Yeah, definitely not work." Automatically, Danny's hand goes to his crotch, squeezing himself as he soaks up the view Steve's offering him. "Hope you haven't been waiting too long like this."

Steve dips his head and squeezes his ass, doing a little self-worship to push Danny along. "Nah. Just claiming something I didn't get last week."

"Which was?"

"You."

"Ah." Danny stops just behind Steve and runs his fingertips down his spine. "Total knockouts deserve a reward, is that what you're saying?"

Steve nods, shivering with pleasure. "Wanted you to fuck me right there after the fight, Danno." Blood dripping from his lip, bruises on his face, raw, broken down – it would have been perfect. "Kinda pissed we didn't get the chance."

"Shhh, don't worry about it." Danny's close enough now that he can kisses Steve's back, his fingers gone from there and now slowly rubbing at his slick hole. "You think I'm gonna pass up the chance to fuck my best fighter even if it's a couple days late?" He leans forward, uncaring whether or not he gets Steve's sweat all over his shirt. "What kind of coach would I be if I let something like that ruin it?"

Steve's heart thuds loudly enough to compete with the music he was listening too earlier, noticing how Danny leans on the word _coach._ "Just wanted you to be proud of me, coach, that's all."

"Always am, Steve, don't ever think I'm not." He hears Danny unzip his pants, the soft brush of skin against cotton as Danny's cock springs free, followed by Danny picking up the lube to get himself wet. "I wanted it too, babe, right there on the mat."

Steve braces himself when he feels the thick, warm head of Danny's cock against his hole. "Where everyone could see?"

"Definitely." Danny's voice is deadly low, so low that it doesn't even echo. "Let 'em see how well you fight and then take my cock." He starts to push in, the plug having done its work well and neither of them say a word as Danny bottoms out, the angle _perfect_ to fill Steve up completely.

Steve's eyes water, his body shaking with a need so intense that it makes his guts churn. "Fuck, _coach,_ that…"

Danny shushes him and kisses the back of his neck, his hands on his hips, steadying them both as he grinds slowly into Steve. "Trouble with that Steve? No one else should get to see it. Don't like sharing my best heavyweight."

"No, you… I don't want that. Just you, Danno- coach." Christ, it's hot in here now, Danny picking up on this little scenario he's cooked up and fucking _running_ with it.

"Don't have to worry, I'm not goin' anywhere."

Danny's soft promise doesn't stop him from fucking the absolute _hell_ out of Steve.

At first it's slow, sweet, dirty words being poured forth into Steve's ears, his cock fucking in, out, in, out, making Steve bend more and more until he's ass up and Danny's got such a hold on him that his hands feel like a vise. It's filthy, bent over in this fucking locker room, the smell of his own sweat and Danny's musk, each slap of their bodies coming together echoing lewdly off the walls. Danny's still fucking him through his fly, like he can't be bothered to get more naked than that – but Steve loves it, loves the contrast of his own body being bared for Danny, and _only_ Danny.

"Feels so fuckin' good, babe, squeeze me again, just… fuck, Steve, I'm getting close." Danny's thrusts are getting rougher, hard enough that his own sweat spatters Steve's back every time he slams home. Steve tries to give him more, fucking back onto his cock and trying to pull them both along at the same time. His own cock is throbbing, practically untouched, unable to get a hand on himself because what Danny's giving him is just too fucking _good._

"On my face, coach," Steve manages – he may as well go on the way, short of getting smacked in the face with Danny's cock.

Bad idea to think of that, because he nearly comes there on the spot.

Danny pulls out and the emptiness is almost painful, yes, but Steve is on his knees in an instant, jerking himself off as Danny blows all over his face and open mouth, hot, heavy ropes that make Steve dearly wish he could see himself right now.

He comes when Danny does indeed smack him across the mouth with his spent cock, all over the floor and Danny's shoes, hard enough that he hears the spatters land all over the floor. It leaves him shaking, completely and utterly fucked out –

But it goes so far beyond what he wanted that he can't complain.

Danny joins him on the floor, toppling him over on his back, uncaring of the absolute mess they've made of each other to kiss Steve. He scoops up his come with his tongue and feeds it to him, swapping it back and forth, the heavy, tangy scent mixing with the layers of sweat on Steve's body, the aroma powerful enough to keep the desire simmering in Steve's veins.

He feels bad for doubting Danny earlier.

Danny stops kissing him for just a second, cradling Steve's face in his hands. "You know, when you pull shit like this it _really_ makes me wonder why I even bother with porn." He kisses Steve, twice, and then buries his face in his neck. "Seriously, any time you want to do this again…"

"I'll tell you ahead of time, promise – but you picked up on it quick." Steve really doesn't want to pass out on this cold floor, but his limbs feel like jelly and Danny is so _warm._

"Yeah, well, it's kind of my job. Adapting to a situation, figure out what _you're_ doing, all that stuff. Never thought that dirty locker room sex would be incorporated into those skills."

Steve rubs Danny's back, completely uncaring that he's now very, very gross with drying come and sweat. "Welcome to the team, Danno."

"It's been a year, don't you think it's a little late for that now?"

"Well, consider it another learning experience."

"Steve…"

If there's any shame to be felt for what he has with this man, Steve can't begin to find it.


End file.
